A Lingering Sadness
by EvilDime
Summary: He has always followed his heart, and nothing shall ever tear him from that course. Until his dying day... and beyond.


_**Disclaimer** : I don't own the world and characters of Harry Potter and make no money from writing this. _

_**Beta** : Trish Tavor. Thank you! :D_

 _ **A/N** : Written for Round 3 of the Quidditch Little League. Task: write in one of the given genres. In my case, Spiritual __(though the game thread implied that we can interpret that genre somewhat liberally)_ _. I hope what I wrote works; I've never written anything in that category before. - Additional prompts: (word) chasing, (song) 'My Immortal' by Evanescence, (opening sentence) Time was running out. ..._ _So, this is going to be an Immortal Songfic. Don't like, don't read. ;_ _)_

 ** _W_** _ **arning** : Possessive personality disorder, sort of. __Character death._ _Not a happy ficlet._

* * *

 **A Lingering Sadness**

 _by Dime_

* * *

Time was running out.

His Lady lay dying, and he feared to think he might not return to her in time. The forest around him was dark and dreary, mud sticking heavily to his boots to make his every exhausted step a strain beyond measure.

Yet onward he trudged, never resting, never doubting, focusing on his task with a single-mindedness that belied his devotion to his Lady and brought forth a glimpse of his true desires. Oh, but once more to see that elusive creature he was chasing!

 _~ You used to captivate me by your resonating light  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind. ~  
_

There! A slender foot darting away behind a great oak! Quickly, his spirits lifting, he gave chase. Blood boiled hotly in his veins, the deprivations and despair of his long journey forgotten at the first wisp of long, fragrant hair, of an exquisitely ruffled cloak, of intelligent eyes and oh, that beloved voice!

"Who goes there?!"

He slowed his steps as his quarry gave up her flight and turned to face him.

"It is I, Milady."

"You!"

"Your mother lies dying, she sent me to find you and bring you back to her side."

"As though my mother wished to see me on her dying bed! I dare say your lies have gotten even bolder!"

Hurt, he pulled up swiftly from the bow he had been executing. "Never have I lied to you! Tell me, who was it that held you when your mother scolded you for lack of inheriting her intellect? Who swore bloody vengeance on those cowards that would mock you for it?"

" _You_ were responsible for my companions needing support to even reach the hospital wing!" Her beautiful complexion was twisted horribly, piercing his heart with her obvious revulsion.

"All I did, I did for you!"

 _~ When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears ~  
_

"And yet I never asked you to! All I ever desired of you was that you leave me be, and here you are, again, chasing after me!" The cold of the night laid a cool blue tinge upon her face, and yet it grew tangibly colder still with the frown that crossed it. "Wisdom was never yours, as well I know," she mused. "Still, I expected you to realize that my favour lies not with you. Never with you. ...Such a fool I was."

Sneering, she turned to leave him.

He would not have it. Anger overtook him at the slight she gave so casually, as was her wont; at her careless disregard for the dreadful voyage he had undertaken, all across England, France and Italy, by carriage, boat and - in parts - even by that horrible modern invention of _porte-keying_!

No, he would not be left looking a fool after all this!

With three determined steps, he had caught up to the scornful woman and turned her around harshly by the slender elbow.

"Ow! Get off me, you beast!"

"A beast, you call me? Me, your friend and confidant for many a long year? Truly, you have been away too long! You forget yourself!" His grip on her elbow tightened.

Her eyes sparked daggers at him. "I have been away not nearly long enough if you still experience the need to follow wherever I go!"

"I shall always follow, until death and beyond!"

"If _you_ are what awaits me on the other side, I shall never die!"

Silence.

An owl hooted in the distance.

Slowly, both of them lowered their eyes to the dagger protruding from her chest.

"Helena...!" Finally his right hand left her elbow, only to join his left in grasping a tight hold of her body when she staggered. Guiding her slowly down to lean against the great Albanian oak, he felt the white-hot anger seep out of him like so much ink from a broken jar.

 _~ Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me ~  
_

"Helena, I did not mean... I... I love you!"

With her dying breath, she whispered harshly: "Not... requited..."

Just as his soul had broken upon her murder, his heart shattered at her words. With tears in his eyes, he slowly extracted his dagger from its ghastly sheath. If he let Helena go on alone now, never would he win her forgiveness!

True to his word, he followed her without the slightest hesitation.

* * *

Rowena Ravenclaw coughed drily. She knew the hour had drawn near, and despite Helena's treachery, all she wanted now was to have her daughter by her side. Her lovely child...

Her wish grew and stretched its wings at her direction. Tightly clutching her wand, the ageing professor sent it forth into the world to do what even her love-struck servant had failed to accomplish after nearly an entire moon's travel: to bring home her daughter.

The wish flew true. It found the wanted soul preparing to take flight. But as the soul was not ready to fly, was not willing to pass on, the wish struck home.

Helena Ravenclaw was pulled back to England at her mother's behest.

Her remorseful, blood-spattered murderer, possessed by the single-minded wish to love and protect her no matter her thoughts on the matter, _willed_ his broken soul to reunite and follow suit.

* * *

 _~ These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase ~  
_

For centuries without end, the Bloody Baron has been prowling the dungeon corridors at night, frowning darkly at every moving shadow, be it a feline, rodent or other sorry being that has dared to disturb his self-recriminations.

Sometimes, he glimpses the Grey Lady floating by in the distance, her wound hidden from the world beneath her tasteful cloak. Never in her afterlife has she told a single soul what happened between them in that forest, nor does she intend to. He alone knows that wound is there, and beneath her cool exterior, the hurt and anger festers still.

He watches her drift by, neither daring to approach nor able to look away, until she vanishes around a corner, a last curl of the long, beautiful hair trailing after her like a sweet echo of her perfect self. Then she is gone.

And so the Baron's tortured soul lingers on: Always in love - and forever alone.

 _~ I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
But though you're still with me  
I've been alone all along ~  
_

* * *

 _A/N: Thoughts?_


End file.
